Should've Already Died
by Arlingtonecho
Summary: "Welcome to the 67th Hunger Games." I am careful not to move too much on the platform. One wrong move and I'll trigger the mines. I think of my sister and my mother. Of my friends. Of my district and its people. I just hope they can forgive for what i'm about to become.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N- So this is my fanfic and so I hope you all like it. **

It was scorching today. Just like every other reaping day that I could remember. Any other day during the summer the district's people would be slaving away, fishing for hours and then giving away all they had earned to the Capital. The harsh sunlight always burnt our skin but at least the cool waters of the ocean relieved us of the hot weather and in so that sense we were lucky. But today there was no one out fishing; no today parents clutched their children tightly in their grasp afraid they'd be next.

When I got up that morning I had momentarily forgot two unfortunate children would be reaped to play in the Capitol's savage Hunger Games. In the early hours of the morning I had stepped outside the small seaside house I shared with my mother and sister, prepared to work as any other person in the district would instead to find not a single soul was out today. It was then the realisation hit and bile was starting to rise. But I held it in as I always did; I had to stick through until the reaping was over when I could then come back home relieved for another year I wasn't picked. I had to be optimistic; I had learnt that from my first reaping. There was just no point being worried since I had come from a career district. Even I _did _get picked there would probably be another stupid, arrogant girl ready to volunteer.

I decided to take a trip down to the shore while everyone else slept in. There was no law against it, but its been made clear that our leisure time should be used for something far more productive. Like providing food for the Capitol to over indulge in while the rest of Panem starves to death. I suppose I should be grateful I live in 4. Districts such as 11 and 12 are almost fully comprised of people who seem to be constantly on the verge of starvation. But my family is still one of the poorer one's of the district, mainly living on the bad bits of fish.

I never appreciate how beautiful the ocean here truly is unless it's reaping day. I imagine all the fish that swim around, some big enough to feed families for days but end up being given to the capitol. That's not to say no one here steals from time to time. Almost everyone does, no one here is content with the little we get and we'd be damned if we willingly just gave it all to the Capitol.

In the distance I hear the stage being set up for reaping day, signalling that I should probably go back home to get ready. I took one last swim in the water, one last luxury before the Capitol takes two more lives, possibly people I know and have grown up with. As l leave the water I could not help but staying a minute longer just sanding on the sand as I relish the feeling of the sea dousing my feet. For some reason I could not help but remember long passed memories of jumping up and down the waves hit the sand. But long gone are those days.

As I reach my house I hear noises coming from inside indicating that my mother and sister had gotten up. My sister, Alodia, at 16 was a little less than a year younger than me. She was often outspoken, getting herself into trouble and if it weren't for the fact that I knew she could take care of herself than I would have been living my life in a constant worry for her. But she knew how to get out of tricky situations; we were the same like that. Both cunning, quick thinkers and more intelligent that some of the moronic peacekeepers we're forced to deal with. But that's were the similarities end. She is far more arrogant, foolish and even a little more "cruel" than I am. She dreams of rebellion, of crushing the Capitol, watching as their citizens bleed. I can't say I blame her, I dream of that too but I've never actually believed it was possible unlike her.

We look very different too. She always stuck out a little in our family, with her curly auburn hair and large amber eyes. Freckles adorned her skin and she was quite short compared to the rest of us as well. Though I suppose she had gotten that from my father's side. His family shared the same red hair, eyes and freckled skin as she did, though my father never had the red hair. I on the other hand looked like my mother. I was beautiful; there was no doubt about that. My body was envied by girls all around the district; slender but muscular enough to still look feminine, reasonably tall as many of the girls wanted to be. My tanned skinned was evident of the hours I've spent out fishing. My lush, brown hair added to my appeal, as did my captivating light blue eyes. Yep I was truly something to marvel at. I would be lying if I said boys hadn't drooled over me. Unfortunately for them they weren't really my type.

"Oh honey, you're back. Go and take a shower, I have a nice dress laid out for you. " My mother's voice brings me back from my thoughts. She looks tireder than usual, black rings under her eyes and hair greying more than ever. It's no surprise really. She works hard to provide for us. We rarely get to see her, as she's out fishing almost day in and day out. Though I'm grateful for what she does for us, I can't help resent her for leaving me to deal with my wayward sister who's in trouble more often than not. Part of me wants to be the little sibling, the one being cared for, whose mistakes are always forgiven. But I'm not and I can't afford to mess up.

I do as my mother suggested and take a quick bath, before entering the room I shared with my sister. On my bed was probably the most beautiful piece of clothing I had ever seen. It was a strapless, blue dress that had been probably worn back in my mother's reaping days, not to mention would have costed a fortune. A pair of expensive looking heels was also laid out for me to wear. I've only worn heels a couple of times and admittedly walking in them was not my forte. Nevertheless I had put them, tripping as I took a couple of steps in them before getting accustomed to them. I had done my hair up in a fishtail braid, fitting because of my district. Finally I applied some makeup on as well, using a couple of tricks that my friend Laurel had taught me I used the limited resources to pull of a stunning look. I admit I did love dressing up sometimes.

I walked into the living room where my sister and mother were eating breakfast. Alodia, much more tomboyish than me had some been persuaded by mother into a dress though she was looking sulky about it. I grabbed a piece of our district's seaweed bread and a couple of shellfish, which weren't fresh, passing the portrait of my family doing so. There my father, tall and handsome stood laughing, holding my sister in one arm and another around my mother's waist. My mother holding my brother back when he was a baby, looking much younger and happier. My child self stood slightly in front of both of them, smiling without a care in the world. The happy family staring back at me was not what we were now. Not when my father and brother were gone and dead, not when my mother a workaholic who distances herself from the children she has left, not when my sister was constantly messing things up for the rest of us and definitely not when I hadn't cracked a smile like that in years.

A bell rings, signalling the reaping would begin in an hour. A tear rolls down my mother's cheek and terror fills my sister face. The three of us all hug each other, holding onto on, not sure if this would be the last time we'd all be together in this house.

"Come on Tess, the Capitol's about to get their show. " Alodia remarks. I frown at her. My little sister, so cynical, so rebellious, so easy to kill. If the Capitol ever got their clutches on her…

Slowly we walk to the town square, passing friends as we do so. Some look tearful, others are outright terrified. Some look merely indifferent, as though they weren't facing a possible death sentence. Alodia and I register then make our way to our respectful age group, giving each other and our mother one last hug. She goes to the 16's and I to the 17s. I see my group of friends huddled up together. Pliny, the most fragile out of us looked like she was going to have a fit any second now. In our first reaping, she'd had cried and screamed while they'd registered her. Laurel is there too, the most social and lively of us. But it was my best friend Blye who I wanted most to see. We had been best friends since we were little kids, she was more of a sister to me than Alodia was at times.

"You look beautiful Tessa." Laurel told me, always conscious of fashion choices even in a time like this. She was on the few people to come me Tessa other than my mother. My actual name is Teresa. Only authority figures are allowed to use it since at the darling age of four I decided that I hated it and I should be called Tessa or Tess instead. I look at my three friends each of them dolled up looking as pretty as me. I'm reminded of my sister's words, _"Got to look nice for the capitol when they take you to your death."_ I bury the anger that threatens to consume now and instead look away as one final tear slips down my cheek. I cannot bare the thought to lose anyone one of them. And so we all hug once more, hoping desperately neither of us is picked,

"Look sharp Tess. Another exciting Hunger Games." Blye whispers to me. I almost crack a smile but it falters when I look up.

Conversations cease all at once as the escort, Eunia Ivory walks onto the stage. She was dressed just as, if not more ridiculous as the rest of the capitol people. Her hair extensions were so long they reached to the back of her knees, not to mention that nearly every strand was a different colour. She wore long, yellow fake eyelashes and a feather stuck to her forehead. Her lips had obviously been surgically enhanced, while her nose was a different colour to the rest of her face. Her clothes were worst. She wore an oversized pink coat with a silver feather dress that hardly covered any skin. She somehow managed to walk in her 9-inch heels without missing a beat. I see the mayor, Persius Gliese there too, looking almost bored. I felt a sudden surge of anger towards him. He had no children to go in the games, he never starved, he never was subjected to the hardships the rest of us were. Still scowling, I take a look at the victors, five of them in total. Mags the oldest would be mentoring along with the victor from a couple of years ago, Finnick. Rumours swirled around him, his numerous of capital lovers at only sixteen was always something to gossip about.

"Hello District 4. It is my pleasure to once again come back here as an escort. Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be ever in your favour. This year as you all know is the 67th Hunger Games." Her annoying, shrill voice echoed throughout the square. Her capitol accent was always fun to mock but there was nothing funny about her now. She blabbed on about the dark days, how the capitol overcame the districts, how now we're supposed to send two children to the death. The usual. I drowned it out like I always did since my third reaping. It was a load of bullshit. As Eunia' speech came to end I am overwhelmed with fear.

"Alright now, lets start with the girls."

My heart began beating erratically as I began sweating under the harsh sunlight. At 17 my name was in there 12 times, I had taken out tesserae when I was 12, which now doubled my chances of being picked. I looked towards my sister who thankfully never took tesserae and only had her name in there five times. I grip Blye's hand as Eunia picked out a slip. Please not me. Please not me. Please not me.

"Teresa Grey."


	2. Chapter 2

Terror fills me. It becomes hard to breathe. Tears threaten to fall. But as always I hold it in. I'm calm, cool and collected as I walk onto the stage. I cannot afford to look back at my friends, nor my sister or mother. I am determined to fight. I am determined to live.

"Oh, aren't you a pretty little thing." Eunia's voice breaks me out of my daze. I don't try to smile back since I know I'll probably end up breaking down. Looking out to the crowd I feel sick to the stomach. Many familiar faces look up at me. People I worked with, gone to school with, people I've known all my life, who I'll have to say goodbye too. I spot Laurel, Pliny and Blye in the crowd. They're all holding each other close, crying softly. I force myself to look away from them. I see my sister looking horror-stricken. I'd always thought if either of us was ever reaped she'd start a revolution single handily but now she seems rooted to the spot. Not moving a single muscle. The last face I spot is my mother. She's weeping and for a second looks like she's going to come up here and take me away. I suddenly wish she would. I wish to be young child again where she would cradle me in her arms and sing me to sleep when I had nightmares. But I am left standing here all alone.

"Now are there any volunteers?" Eunia's chipper voice asks. I breathe a sigh of relief. Volunteers. One of the perks of coming from a career district is that someone always is ready to volunteer. But the only thing that greets me is silence. No one volunteers. It's not that surprising. Volunteers from District 4 how slowly began to decrease in the last decade. But I still held onto hope like a foolish little girl.

"Well if they're no volunteers lets pick out the boys. " With those words gone is my change at living. I'm about to lose it now but I remind myself there is time for that later. Eunia picks out a slip from the boy's bowl.

"Devon Keene." A fifteen-year-old boy walks out from his sector. He looks shocked, terrified and close to tears. I've seen him around the district but I don't know him that well. Maybe that's for the best. He needs to die so I can home. I can't get attached to him. Eunia calls for volunteers but again no one responds.

"Well I give you the District 4 tributes for the 67th Hunger Games." A couple people clap but we are otherwise met with silence. I hope my face shows no emotion. I cannot afford to show weakness. I need to be strong, I can't be afraid.

We are ushered into the justice buildings Devon and I each going into our separate rooms for our goodbyes. It is easily the most luxurious building in the district. It's also one of the few places that doesn't smell of the sea. I sit for a couple minutes in silence. I try not to panic and to keep my breathing even, but any minute I'm going to lose it. Just as I'm about to completely freak out my mother and sister come in. I somehow manage to hold on to my sanity as I run towards, pulling them into a hug; I am determined not to cry.

"You can do this Tess. You're strong. You know how to survive. You can make snares and you're good with knives. You're smart too. You can get sponsors. You can do this." Alodia tells me. If only I could replicate the look of determination on her face. But she's in some ways right. I _am _good with knives and snares. I can survive. But I'm not a killer.

I whisper that last part aloud. This breaks Alodia's determination a bit but it's what my mother says next what surprises me the most." You're going to have to be. To come back home. To come back to me." She says fiercely. I never thought my mother would ever encourage me to _murder _innocent children. But I know she's right, so I nod back at her.

"I love you both so much. I'm going to back. I promise." I tell them. We all hug again muttering, "I love yous". I will not cry. I will not cry.

"Here have this." My mother pulls her necklace from her neck. My father gave it to her years ago and she's worn it nearly every day ever since. My heart drops at the thought of him, at the thought of my sister and mother losing another family member. I give them one last hug before the peacekeepers inform them their time is up. They practically have to drag them out with Alodia kicking and screaming. They won't punish them thankfully. Not when I'm being sent to my death.

Laurel comes in next. Tears stream down her face and once again I'm tempted to cry.

"You truly are beautiful Tessa. Use that too your advantage. Do what Finnick Odair did. You have to come back." She hugs me once more before planting a kiss on my forehead and then she is too gone.

After a couple minutes Pliny comes running into the room. She's pulling me into a hug. She's crying as well, more freely than anyone else. "You can't die okay. You just can't. If anyone can make it it's you. Don't die, just don't." She says in between her sobs. She gives me one final hug and then she is whisked out from the room.

Finally Blye comes in. She is surprisingly not crying and for that I'm grateful.

"Remember all our practise okay. You were good with those knives. You're fast, smart, brave and the best person I've ever or will ever know. Just come black to us. I love you alright." The tears start forming but thankfully don't fall. I mutter I love you back before she hugs me once more and then I'm alone once more.

For the next five minutes I sit quietly, lost in my thoughts. I have to accept I have to become a killer to win these games. I have to come home. I have to win. I look up. A group of peacekeepers have come for me. For second I think I've done something wrong but then I remember there here to escort me to the train just in case I try to make a run for it. I see Devon who is snivelling. I want to scream at him. If he wants to live he can't act like that. He can't show his fear.

I take one last look at my district as we board the train. I look out towards the ocean thinking about all the times I wanted swim beyond the horizon, away from everything. Sleepless nights were spent thinking of ways to escape. And I guess I got my wish. I escaped living in District 4 and the payment comes in form of my death. The train starts moving and then it's gone. I will never get to see the District or the ocean again. No with every second that passes I am closer to death

Eunia informs that it won't be long till we get to the capitol since our district is located not far from it. But our train goes slower than the others so each district can arrive at a similar time, 12 who is the furthest from the capitol has the fastest train because of this.

I see Mags, Finnick and Devon all seated together. It's best I get on good terms with my mentors. Its weird seeing Finnick as my mentor since he's only 16 and technically younger than me. Its also weird imagining Mags, this sweet old lady having to battle it out in the arena to survive. But nonetheless I take a seat; ready to do whatever it takes to win. The table is filled with food, which I happily indulge in. The cheesecake is absolutely delicious as are the marshmallows and every single other sweet things. We spend the next half an hour quietly eating. For Devon and I this is as much as we'll ever get to eat and so we take this chance to feast.

"First things first, I'm Finnick and this is Mags and we're your mentors. If you want to survive you're going to have to listen to everything we say and not disobey us." He directs this last part at me. My sister's wrongdoings are famous throughout the district and I guess because of them I'm labelled as troublemaker as well. We both nod in recognition. After all Finnick won his games at the youngest ever age and so I'm guessing he knows a thing or two about survival.

"Next what skills do you guys have?" I look towards Devon who doesn't seem to be answering anytime soon. I take a deep breath before replying.

"I'm good with knives and I know how to make snares. I'm pretty fast too. Of course I have all the District 4 skills; fishing, tying knots and wielding nets. Devon you can do those too right?"

He nods reluctantly but doesn't add anything else. Finnick and Mags looked pleased though so I guess it's enough.

"Use your looks to get sponsors. Trust me it can keep you alive. " Finnick tells me. I look into those famous sea green eyes. I admit he's attractive and whatnot but I've never been interested in him. Somehow he's not my type. At Devon's questioning look, Finnick just shrugs and says, "What she's good looking, no one can deny that."

"Save your breath Odair, you're not my type." I assure him.

"I'm _everyone's _type."

" I like girls. You don't fit in that category." Homosexuals aren't outlawed but are still frowned upon by some. But I've never been shy about it. Most people that I know reasonably well know I'm not actually into boys.

"Can't say I expected that. It's fine but don't mention it to the Capitol. It's hard to tell what their reaction may be. " Finnick says chuckling. Mags smiles at me and for the first time since my name was called out at the reaping I smile as well.

"Devon, you can play the cute kid part. The Capitol eats that stuff up. One of you is coming back on this train with us okay." We both nod again back at Finnick. I'm thankful that he's dedicated in getting us home. Some tributes won't be as lucky; their mentors won't be as helpful.

"Devon, Teresa I'll take you to your assigned rooms." Eunia's voice rings. Finnick give me a look that says, "Just do what she says". I reminded her and everyone else to just use Tess but she still insisted on using my full name as Eunia deemed it was more "proper" to do so. She leads as through the train, only now do I truly appreciate how it looks. It's beyond luxurious; it's worth enough to feed a whole district for weeks. My room doesn't disappoint. The king-sized bed is simply too big for one person. I've never had my own bed before; I've always shared one with Alodia. I lie down on it for a while. I think about my family and friends, all the good memories and all the bad. I let the tears I've held in so long fall. I'm sobbing now. Eunia knocks on my door and asks me if I'm okay but all I do is yell at her to go away.

Damn her for picking my name. Damn the capitol for the games. Damn the capitol for everything. I think about Alodia's rage at the Capitol and think that I want to see them pay more than ever. I want to go home so badly but I know I can't escape this. For one brief second I consider killing myself but I know the Capitol would use their advance medicine to stop me from dying. I shake my head at myself. I can't think like that if I'm aiming to be the victor. I take a bath as though aiming to cleanse myself of the past few hours. Like it would all just go away. I spend much longer than necessary and only come out when Eunia knocks on my door to tell me the reaping recaps are about to begin.

Dressing in one of the simpler Capitol outfits I walk into the main carriage. I feel awkward knowing that they heard me crying but instead of jeering looks I am met with reassuring smiles.

I take note of only a couple tributes. It was too hard to keep track but a few did stand out. The District 1 boy, Jasper is handsome and will definitely be able to get sponsors. Jade, the girl looks lethal and bloodthirsty. She volunteered as did the District 2 pair

Wade and Aemila, both arrogant but strong looking. I was pleased that I was successfully able to looks strong and determined while walking up the stage during my reaping but the same can't be said for Devon who looks even more terrified than I remember. District 6 surprisingly has a volunteer tribute, Titus who looks as brutal as the Careers. Katri, the district 7 looks well _good. _ She's attractive and strong looking. She looks smart and determined. I decide she could make a good ally but make note not to get too attached. The district 8 boy is the youngest at twelve but still manages not to shed a single tear despite literally being sentenced to his death. The girl from 10, Eve looks strong for someone from one of the poorer districts as does the boy, Sam from 12.

"Well wasn't that something." Eunia remarks. She's positively _beaming _as though the thought of 23 children dying is something exciting and fun. I've never seen Mags look angry or disappointing and clearly so hasn't Eunia as she immediately shuts up.

The scenery outside is changing now. I'll never forget this first time I laid my eyes on the Capitol. With it's magnificent skyscrapers, mesmerizing lakes and city lights it was easily the most beautiful thing I had laid eyes on. Devon too had been star struck. The Capitol people were screaming our names. We were famous now. A part of the sick show.

"Wave and smile at the people. They're might be sponsors." I immediately do as Finnick says, surprising both of us. Devon follows suit, the two of us entertaining the crowd and we hadn't even technically set foot in the capitol. I look at Finnick who too was waving at the crowd. But I could tell something was wrong with him. He looked more reserved and if even possible…. afraid. But it's not like he was the one going in the arena this time round. So what was he afraid of?


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: So this is the next chapter obviously. Hope you all like it.**

"Here is where we leave you. You're going to be handed over your prep team who basically pretty you up for your stylists. As you probably both know the stylists dress you up for the tribute parade. It's important you do everything they say and under no circumstance offend them." Finnick tells as we arrive outside the prep rooms. I am about to ask what would happen if I were to offend them but I think better of it. As I enter the prep room I shudder at all the different things they're going to "pretty me up" with; hot wax, nail clippers and what looks to be an eyelash roller.

"Hello Teresa, I'm Maximus, this is Daphne and that's Clio. We are your prep team!" A man dressed in what is perhaps the strangest suit I have ever seen walks in with two equally strange looking women. They were the very definition of "Capitol Dress" with Maximus multilayered suit and his oversized puff collar as well as Daphne's outrageously long eyelashes and Clio's overly tattooed skin. I wonder what this people look looked like as children. Had their parents dress themselves in such odd outfits since they were babies?

"Um are you alright Teresa dear?" Daphne tentatively asks. I must have been staring at them, but who wouldn't. You would able to see them a mile away with how conspicuous their outfits.

"Please just call me Tess or Tessa." I must have said that a thousand times today. I blame my mother for picking out the damned name.

"Well I guess we're lucky with how pretty you are. Oh I remember one tribute from 9 couple of years ago that was positively grotesque." Maximus says. I'm about to tell him how most capitol people look "grotesque" everywhere else but I remember Finnick s advice not to offend them. So instead I settle for intensely glaring at them.

"Well lets get started. Lay down here Tessa." Clio points to a gurney like chair, noticing my discomfort at Maximus' words. It's the first thing she says and I find that I like her voice. It has a soft, melodic tone to it and without much of the capitol accent either. I lay down on the "gurney" and they immediately start working on me. Washing my hair, waxing every hair on my body that's not on my head, washing down my skin with a burning hot liquid. I want to ask what each thing is before they use it but find it's probably best if I don't know. A couple of hours go by with Maximus and Daphne either pointing out every physical flaw or complementing me on the weirdest things. Clio just smiles and shakes her head at them. She whispers at one point "Pay no attention to them. They're basically children." I decide that I like her.

Finally they deem me good enough to be handed over to my stylist. As I wait for her I can't help but dread the outfit I'll be put in. As the fishing district the stylists always put us in something sea-related. We're usually dressed as fisherman, mermaids or anything that's blue. Over the years it does start to get repetitive. The same old costume bores the capitol, causing the tributes to fail to make an impression. If we're not memorable enough we may not be able to get sponsors and without sponsors we could very well starve to death in the arena.

I hear footsteps outside. My stylist walks in. She's a freakishly tall, muscular woman with yellow dyed skin. Piercings adorn her face; on her ears, in her nose and I swear I can see a bit of silver in her mouth. Her hairstyle isn't as extreme as some of the other capitol people's but it's still a sight to see. It's shaved on both sides of her head with the only remaining hair styled into a rather tall, dyed red Mohawk. She is wearing a frilly dress and platform shoes without the actual heel. I wonder how she manages to walk from one side of the room to the other.

"Hello Tessa. The prep team informed me that's your preferred name." She looks at me for confirmation but all I can do is simply nod. I am too bewildered at her appearance to do anything more. "My name is Hestia and I am of course your stylist. You must be hungry." She continues, offering me some food. For a while I just shove food down my throat while Hestia watches with a blank face. I can't tell what's she's thinking which worries me.

"Let's get you dressed now." Hestia says after what seems like hours of her just staring at me. I am obviously naked as she dresses me and under her gaze I cannot but feel self-conscious, a rather new feeling to me. I've never much cared about how other people thought of me but under her piercing gaze I cannot help but feel as though I am not good enough.

"You can take a look in the mirror now." My first thought is "_Do I have to show that much skin." _My stomach is bare, my breasts are barely covered with only a small shimmering shawl like top. The skirt is extremely short as well but very pretty and at least multilayered to look like I was wearing a bit more. It reminds me of the scales of the fish that make their homes in reefs. My legs are a little more clothed than the rest of me with blue and black opaque tights but are still easily seen. My hair (courtesy of Clio) is curled a little to look wavier and even tinted to look a little blue. I'm wearing black heels that make me seem even taller. To top it off I'm wearing a pearl bracelet and pearl earrings to better symbolise my district. I admit I look beautiful but I still feel overexposed.

"So what do you think?" Hestia asks. My fascination with my outfit had made me almost forgotten she was there. I want to thank her for making me look so beautiful but all that comes out is "Are you trying to turn me into Finnick 2.0?"

For the first time since we met she shows emotion. I had clearly made her angry and had offended her, which according to Finnick was the exact opposite of what I was supposed to do.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I can't help but feel a little bad. She had put in so much work into this and I wasn't even grateful. But then I remembered that I was here because I was being sent to my death while she and the rest of her Capitol friends were able to sit back and enjoy the show.

"It means that you're trying to exploit me like they did to Finnick. It's obvious you have recently altered the costume so much more skin is shown." This is true. Even at the young age of 14 they had sexualised Finnick to appeal to the crowd. And the costume _did _look altered to show more skin.

"Did you ever think I did it so you could get more sponsors. They always love an attractive tribute. And yes I'm doing what they did to Finnick but it kept him alive and it's going to keep you alive too!" She says this with a rather cold voice that frightens just a bit. I feel if possible even worse. I remember what Laurel said about using my looks to my advantage and here was someone who was offering to do just that! Hestia was actually trying to help me and I basically sounded like an ungrateful brat. Scratch that, I _was _an ungrateful brat.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said what I said. I didn't mean to sound like I didn't like it. Because trust me I do. It just feels weird that they're going to see so much of me." Hestia looks up at me with a sad smile on her face. Is she sad that I have to do this? Isn't she just going to enjoy the show like the rest of them? 

She takes a deep breath, her anger having dissipated, "It's fine. You're right. It _was _wrong to show Finnick in that way as it is wrong to show you too. But you need to understand that we need to use everything to our advantage if we are going to keep you alive." I sit there for a little just absorbing what she said. I'm going to have to play along if I want to make it back to District 4. Even if that means these people see more of me than I would care to want.

"Come on now. The tribute parade is about to start soon. " I follow Hestia down a series of corridors, trying not to trip because of my heels. Devon and his stylist are already there when we arrive. Devon is wearing an outfit that matches mine but is not sexualised thankfully and of course more masculine. He is pulling of the "cute kid" look rather well. His hair is tousled and his dimples are more prominent. Surely a couple of couple people will take pity and sponsor him. For a second I'm overtaken by a sudden urge to protect him, to not let him die. But then I remember if he was going to survive then I have to die and I couldn't do that.

"Wow your stylist made you look even better looking than before. You're what they call "drop dead gorgeous" in the capitol." I turn to see Finnick strolling towards us with Eunia and Mags in toll. He looks even wearier than when we arrived in the Capitol. 

"Hello to you too. Don't I look absolutely gorgeous? They're making into a female version of you. Making me the capitol's next sex symbol. " I say, voice dripping with sarcasm. I thought he'd at least crack a smile but all he does it frown. I thought he enjoyed black humour but apparently not.

"Trust me that's the last thing you want." This makes me feel guilty. I turn away from him, trying to avoid looking at him as much as possible. He's much too depressing right now. And that's when I see her. What is perhaps the most beautiful women I have ever laid eyes on is talking with the District 1 tributes. She had an alluring look about her, with those long, blonde cascading curls and striking green eyes. She looks vaguely familiar but I can't pinpoint where she is from.

"Finnick who is that over near the District 1 tributes." The frown leaves Finnick face immediately. He puts on his charming, flirting persona once more and to tell you the truth it disturbs me.

"They're Gloss and Cashmere, the sister and brother victors from District 1. Cashmere won the year before me in the 64th Games and Gloss the year before that. They're another of the Capitol's favourites. Why are you interested in them?"

"No Reason." I didn't even notice Gloss standing there to be honest since I staring at Cashmere so much. From what I can remember Cashmere was fifteen when she won, making her only a year older than me. I had thought she was pretty when I saw her in the pre-games events but then the actual games started and she started murdering other tributes. That turned me of a little. But now I understand why. She just wanted survive, just like everyone else here.

She's caught me staring at her but instead of being crept out she merely smiled at me. I'm blushing furiously now and unfortunately Finnick notices.

"Please don't tell me you have a crush on her. " Finnick whispers to me. If possible I turn redder. The others luckily didn't hear our conversation and thus look confused to why I resemble a tomato. Thankfully before they can ask any questions we are signalled to start getting on our carriages.

"Tessa you need to engage the crowd but don't look childish. Show them you are not to be underestimated. Smirk at them, shoot them flirtatious looks and sway your hips a bit. Make sure your facial expression conveys raw determination and strength." Hestia's advice is the best yet. I can do that. I can make them fall in love with me.

"Devon do the opposite. Do engage the crowd but genuinely smile at them. Remember the cute kid act. Show off your dimples." Devon's stylist, Tullus tells him. He again nods, too nervous to say anything. I try to give him a reassuring smile but I too am getting nervous. This would be the first time the Capitol would truly get too see up close and personal.

Getting onto the chariot was probably one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. The heels Hestia put me in where already hard enough to walk in but climbing onto the chariot was a different story. With great difficulty I had managed to get on albeit I'd embarrassed myself a little, well actually a whole lot. I swear I saw Cashmere laughing when I tripped. The thought makes me go red again.

The parade starts and District 1 is off. Finnick, Mags and our stylists tell us good luck once more and then they too leave. Any second now we'll be off as well. Open for the capitol to see and judge. As District 3 leaves my nerves get so bad that I'm about to throw up. Our horses start moving. I cast one last look behind before we leave. Titus, the District 6 tribute is eyeing me and not in a good way, like he's already planning my death. I feel even worse.

The horses start moving and within seconds we are pulling into the Capitol's square where President Snow will give us a speech. The crowd is cheering, screaming even. Devon and I try to engage the crowd. It seems to be working. Some of them are cheering _our _names. I look at Devon. His nerves seemed to have completely disappeared. He is smiling, laughing and looks like his genuinely enjoying himself. I decide to loosen up and do exactly as Hestia instructed. I sway my hips, shoot some flirtatious smiles and the crowd absolutely loves it.

The chariot ride comes to a stop. A couple more minutes and the rest of the tributes make it to the square. Some like the District 1 and 2 tributes look confident and are real crowd pleasers. Others like the District 9 girl were wrecked by their nerves and look as though they were going to pass out. I see Katri, the District 7 tribute. She doesn't look too happy and I can guess why. She's dressed as a tree, like most District 7 tributes are. I cast one last glance at all the other tributes before I see myself on the Capitol's screens. I have always known I was beautiful but I never truly felt it until that moment. And in truth, I don't think I will ever feel like that again.

When President Snow begins his speech it is possibly the first time since I was a child that I actually listened to a speech made by the Capitol. Every syllable of each was pronounced so…snakelike and jeering. I was so utterly disgusted by him. He sent 24 children to fight to the death each year. And for what purpose? The Districts already knew they were at the Capitol's mercy. We knew there was nothing we could do, we utterly helpless. He finishes his speech, clearly content with how it went. I can't help but think he shoots me a look as he leaves.

"You were both amazing." Tullus tells us as we arrive back from the parade, beaming with pride. Eunia gives Devon and I both a hug in which I can't help but return. Mags too gives us a hug and mumbles something inaudible. I've gotten good are deciphering what she's saying so I'm pretty sure she's congratulating us. Hestia and Finnick too offer their congratulations.

I properly look around at all the other tributes. District 1 as always look beautiful with their (hopefully) non-permanent jewel encrusted skin and graceful looking outfits. District 2 look strong with their gladiator outfits. District 3 is a mess of cables and 5 are emitting bright epilepsy educing lights. District 6 outfits look like they're wearing the same metals that cars are made out of. I admit that Titus is absolutely terrifying in his getup. District 7 are again trees while 8 seems to be mismatch of different materials. District 9 looks absolutely ridiculous as their costumes resembles a loaf of bread. 10 and 11 are similar looking since they're both dress like farmers. It's District 12 that really makes me look twice. They're completely naked unless you count the coal dust that covers them from head to toe. I find it hard too look away, well that is until I catch Cashmere's eye. Was it my imagination or was she staring at me this time?

"Again you were both wonderful, so very wonderful. But it's time to take you up your rooms." It's not till Eunia speaks that I stop looking at Cashmere. It's that moment I decide that I can't afford to look at her or anyone else that way. No, I have to be independent and focused if I'm going to win the games.


	4. Chapter 4

The Training Centre. A specially designed tower that houses the tributes in the days leading up to their deaths. Since I'm from District 4 I get the 4th floor. I secretly envy the District 12 tributes that get the top floor since it overlooks the whole Capitol. But then again they were probably poorest of us. They deserve a little luxury. But it seems that Eunia Ivory is also a little jealous, having made comments about how lucky 12 is the whole elevator ride here. Because clearly these kids who have starved all their lives and are about to be sent to their death are far more luckier than someone who has never had to go hungry in a day of their life. Oh and will not be dying in a matter of days. But I force myself not to think about this. Sympathising with only make it harder to kill them.

Apparently while Devon and I were getting a makeover Eunia and our mentors were hard at work. "We've been trying to get you sponsors all day." Eunia says. "If people weren't already interested in you two before they definitely are now. You both presented yourselves so, so well." I am both grateful and horrified at the idea of Eunia talking me up to sponsors. Grateful because it may keep end up keeping me alive but horrified since this woman has been known to talk shit in our District. Still she comes from the Capitol, and after years of being an escort she must know how to talk to these people. But the idea of Eunia Ivory being the difference between me living and dying is a strange one.

The District 4 floor is somehow even more lavish then the train we took to the capitol. Chandeliers, plush couches, silver cutlery, king-sized beds. You name it. The first thing I do when Eunia finally leaves is shower. For a while I just sat in the shower, feeling the water drench my skin exhausted from the day's event. My room is impeccably decorated. A large intricately designed closet is already filled with clothes I will never wear. My bed is large enough for three people and the covers are made of the softest and most exquisite material. Everything in my room has been made out of the forced labour from the districts. I try not to be too pleased.

Falling asleep is easy that night. I'm just so tired that as soon as my head hits the pillow I'm asleep. But my dreams aren't so nice. I'm plagued with memories of previous Games, children being violently murdered, and tributes dying of starvation. Then there were the mutts. The Capitol always uses the most terrifying mutts for the Games. One year I remember there were these bugs that had been modified to have extra large pincers that could slice through concrete. But it's memories of my brother and father dying that makes me wake with a start drenched in sweat.

My father was always rebellious as to say. He did not comply with peacekeepers nor would he give the day's fishing haul to the Capitol. He always would say " I worked for it so _I _earned it. The Capitol doesn't deserve shit." He would've continued but at this point my mother would scold him for swearing in front of us. My sister always used to look at him when he'd start ranting with awe on her face. Eight years later and she's still channelling his spirit. Around the time I turned six and my brother was born the peacekeepers warned my father to keep his mouth shout otherwise we'd all pay. So for the next three years he kept his defiance to a minimum but still sneaking a better share of food for us whenever he could.

When I was nine the old Head Peacekeeper died. Before that District 4 was relatively peaceful. We were wealthier than most Districts and our lifestyle wasn't too bad. But when Dax, the old Head's second in command took over the District entered into a much stricter environment. A much less lenient and forgiving man, Dax was the one who warned my father in the first place. He caught him sneaking in some shellfish one day and for that he was murdered.

I remember it vividly. My sister and brother were building sandcastles while I was playing with my friends. My mother and father had been fishing not too far from the shoreline. Once dusk fell and he had given his daily haul to the peacekeepers he proceeded to make his way over to us, the shellfish hidden by his clothes. Dax had asked for to ask to search him claiming it was his right to do so. Since it's illegal to "steal" fish that's supposed to go to the Capitol my father would've have gotten into big trouble. He said that Dax had no reason to search him, that he was hiding nothing. But then Dax started to get impatient and angry. He tackled my father to ground, repeatedly hitting him. At this point my mother had stepped in yelling at him to stop. Next thing you know Dax was firing bullets everywhere. My brother who had grown scared had gone over to my father to see if he was okay before neither my sister nor I could stop him. They were both shot repeatedly.

The only doctor in our district had told us they both died instantly with relatively no pain. This did not make me feel better. Dax who had shot and killed peacekeepers that had tried to intervene had been sentenced to a lifetime in prison. Slowly the District had morphed back into its relaxed and easy-going state. But no one forgot the events of that night. No one forgot the murder of a child.

I suppose that's why my sister can get out of trouble so easily. They did not want a repeat of what happened and so they left us alone. While Alodia never did anything too "unlawful" had the circumstances been different the peacekeepers wouldn't be so tolerant. I wonder if Finnick, Devon and Mags know that I was apart of the family that brokethat night. And what if the Capitol knew? I'm almost certain the Gamemakers would purposely kill me in the Games. It's understood that in the District no one is to even mentioned that night since it is just further evidence of the Capitol's corrupt system.

I don't manage to fall back asleep. When Hestia "quietly" walks in my room to put my day's clothes on bed I pretend I'm still asleep. I try to prolong leaving my room for as long as possible. It is only when Eunia comes barging telling me to get up as once that I do and that's only to stop her screeching.

"Okay first things first. Training." Finnick says as we all sit down for breakfast. "Both of you stay away from the basic District 4 stuff. You both said you already know how to fish, make a net and use a trident right? Either way I suggest you both stick to survival skills. How to light a fire, recognizing poisonous plants. All that stuff. I recommend you both try out a new weapon as well, especially you Devon. Tess you say you can work a knife and snares. Don't show them that. It's best they don't know about your skills. You're from a Career District, plus you look strong and healthy, no one is going to believe you're entirely useless so don't try looking so. Devon since you come off as much younger and innocent you won't need to do this. But remember survival skills first, weapons later."

I'm surprised at what Finnick said. Since we're apart of a Career District we are almost always supposed to be bragging about our superior strength, picking fights with other tributes and all that stuff. We're supposed to be all about weapons yet here was Finnick who at fourteen_ murdered _other children by wielding his own deadly weapon telling us not too. But I decide to have faith in him. After all he's the mentor, the _victor _and I'm just the tribute.

I think about all the practise with knives I've had. See my friend Blye's family owns what we nicknamed the "Seafood Butcher Shop." Not the most creative name. Effectively the shop acts as a butcher but just with seafood. Her family has the tedious job of cutting up the majority of the southeast part of the District's produce to send off to the Capitol. Over the years we'd steal a couple knives and practise throwing them as a sort of practice for the Games if we were ever reaped. Out of the three Career Districts ours supports the Games the least and as such only has one very small training facility that only the richest families from the northwest can afford to send their children too. I had also gotten into the habit of making snares. Instead of the old fashioned netting approach I decided to experiment and start using an altered version of snares to fish. Though many people in the District used it it wasn't the most reliable approach since no one had been taught as a kid how to make them compared with our extensive lessons on netting. I had gotten the idea of tweaking our standard method of setting snares after seeing the victor from the 61st Hunger Games doing something similar. It proved successful and got my family back in good graces with the Peacekeepers.

"Oh and one last thing about alliances. 1 and 2 might want to recruit you, well mostly you Tess. Remember that saying yes means you're in close proximity with them and at risk of being backstabbed. Literally. But saying no may get you targeted. Most importantly remember if you're going to make an alliance you're going to have to break it." And with that last chilling thought Eunia is whisking Devon and me into the elevator.

I'm anxious about training. This if the first time I'll see what the other tributes can do. I look to Devon who looks equally if not more nervous than I am. The elevator ride to the training rooms is nerve-wracking. These next couple of days could impact the whole Games. The people who are threats are almost always made clear, those who are the weaklings are too. Here we find our "weapon of choice", we pick up skills that could eventually be the difference between life and death. Thinking about this does not make feel better at all.

Walking into the Training Rooms I'm relieved to find we aren't the last ones to arrive. The District 2 tributes are being told by the instructors they have to wait till everyone else gets here before they can start much to their annoyance. Within ten minutes the rest of the tributes arrive with most of them looking as nervous as I felt. Pleoine, the head instructor gives what seems to be the standard speech, she tells us to learn survival skills before we go to the weapons but we all know the Capitol enjoys the deaths by another tribute the best. I glance around at the other tributes as Pleoine talks. Titus eyes a particularly brutal looking weapon. Jade smirks every time Pleoine describes a gruesome death from a past Games. I feel even worse than before.

"Alright you may all go and pick a station." Pleoine says after what feels like hours. The career tributes immediately head for the deadliest looking weapons. They're lethal. They hit the centre of the target nearly every single time they throw a knife. They hold spears and swords as though they were born too. It's easy to see that they've been trained all their life. And I can't help but think that I haven't got the slight chance of winning.


	5. Chapter 5

"Are you just gonna stand there all day 4?" I blink out of my daze to see the girl from District 7, Katri waving her hand across my face. I'm turning red from embarrassment as the other tributes look over at me laughing. Clearly I should have moved to a station instead of standing here like an idoit. I quickly move over to the plant section hiding my face from the other tributes. Luckily no one else is here so I can avoid small talk. The instructor here is a little too enthusiastic about recognizing safe plants from poisonous ones. But nonetheless I listen carefully, determined to learn as much as possible. There are very few plants in District 4 unless you count marine ones. The arena isn't exactly going to be a giant lake or whatever. So I'm at a disadvantage. Tributes from Districts like 11 are raised knowing which plants are safe to eat. Me? If I'm lucky I'll pick something that kills me instantly instead of one that will result in a long and torturous death. But I try not to think about that too much.

I move to the spear throwing section next. Spears are commonly used in my district for fishing and as such most of our tributes are good with them. I remember Finnick saying that I shouldn't show my talents but it won't come as a huge surprise to anyone if I'm good with spears since I'm from 4. Plus he also said that no one is going to believe I'm entirely useless and weak. And with that I start throwing spears without any further internal conflict. I'm quite good after about five years of practise. Though we're taught us kids how to do the basics of fishing we aren't allowed to use the dangerous stuff until the ripe old age of twelve. Right when we're old enough to be reaped. Imagine a line of twelve-year-old kids handing these long, metal death weapons that could potential kill everyone around them. Stupid I know. But I'm thankful now I have this advantage. The kids from 12 always seem to be screwed. None of them ever use their District's industry as an advantage in the Games. But that's because they probably aren't allowed in the mines until a later age. I'm again thankful someone was crazy enough to let children use spears.

Once I'm finished with spears I look for Devon. I haven't kept a close eye on him and admittedly the last time I could remember where he was at was his first station. Now he's smartly decided to go to the fire-starting station. I haven't had much experience with fire starting unless you count cooking food or these gathering things that kids from my school organise. They're nicknamed burnouts and we would be in deep shit if we're caught. Luckily they don't happen frequently enough to become an issue with the peacekeepers. I decide to join Devon. I'm in dire need of practise.

"Hey Devon. What have you been up to?" I greet him. He looks over to me in surprise. His intense concentration and determination to start a fire had made him forget the rest of the world.

"Oh hey Tess. I've been at the shelter and knives station. I think I've found my match in these stupid pieces of wood." I fight the urge to laugh as I see him struggling to start the fire. Who knew that this would be his downfall?

"Here let me show you." I don't know why I offer to help him. It will not benefit me whatsoever and I'm not exactly an expert at this. I grab a pair of matches half-hoping it doesn't work out so I don't end up helping Devon and half-hoping it does work so I don't look like a fool. It surprisingly does work out. Within a matter of minutes I manage to light the fire. The instructor looks beside herself. I actually feel a little proud of myself. Devon looks at me in awe before doubling efforts to start the fire.

I spend another half-hour at this station perfecting my fire-starting techniques with and without matches before lunch is called. It's a weird affair. No one is talking except for the tributes from one and two. But even then that's probably just sizing the rest of us up. Most tributes sit with their district partners and while I think it's probably best I eat alone, Devon insists on sitting next to me. I almost regret lighting that fire. He had finally managed it but not without his incessant questions on how to do so every step of the way. But I still cannot find it in my heart to dislike him. Maybe since he's the only thing left from home or it's his infectious smile. It's hard to believe his only two years younger than me since he is so childlike in demeanour. But I'm almost 100% sure that's his strategy. Look like a harmless kid so you don't look a threat and then murder everyone when they aren't looking. I make a mental note to put as much distance between the two of us when the Games start.

After lunch I try a couple of different stations. Starting with camouflage, then shelter, ropes and then finishing off with the Gauntlet. The Gauntlet is a sort of obstacle course. It's optional like every other station but most tributes try it out. And most fail spectacularly. It's the people who stood out from the reaping that succeed. Of course the District 1 and 2 pairs fly through course as well as Titus, Katri, Eve from 10 and Sam from 12. I am pleased to discover I manage to defeat the station as well. It's the District 8 boy, the youngest tribute who surprises me the most. Sure he isn't as efficient as the Careers but he still manages to put up an impressive fight before being defeated at the last hurdle. I realise that even though Devon is older he's acting more like a child than the boy from 8 is. It infuriates me as much as his crying at the Reaping did. But of course I say nothing. I still want to hit him though.

The next day plays out more or less the same. I pick up some new skills and I admit I'm pretty impressed with myself. I can light a fire perfectly now (though I need matches), I'm able to recognize some poisonous plants and edible insects. I can even build a passable shelter and hammock. I'm awful at hand-to-hand combat. If Titus ever got a hold of me I'd be dead in a minute. But I improve a little by the end of the session.

I find myself watching Katri, Devon and the boy from 8. I observe the skills and mishaps as well as how they present themselves. When I see Katri struggling at trying to make a snare I foolishly decide to go over to the station despite promising Finnick that I wouldn't. Instead of outright helping her like I did with Devon, I let her watch me as I set the snares. It's easy to do but even with my "help" she is still struggling. I grow increasingly frustrated, as she cannot perform this simple task. Just as I'm about to leave she leans over and says "What's it with you and trying to help others out." If only I knew Katri. " I saw you with your District partner helping him start that fire. It's like you want someone else to win. Like I get you helping him cause he's from your District but me? Why help me?" I feel more like an idiot than ever.

"I honestly have no idea. I saw you both struggling and for some reason I have to go up and help." I stop for a moment and just wonder how could I do something so stupid. "It's becoming a problem." I sarcastically tell her. She grins in response. I find myself smiling too. And thus our instantaneous friendship began. Katri teaches me the proper way to climb trees in exchange for more snare lessons. I find that with her expert guidance I'm able to efficiently climb trees without too much of a problem.

Talking to her is as easy as talking to Blye. She tells me that her preferred name is Kat and thinks that Katri is an awful name, something I can empathise with. She tells me her favourite colour is brown like the trunks of trees, she turns seventeen this September, she's good with recognising edible plants and insects and of course can handle an axe. The highlight of the three days is when we're trying our hand at archery. We're not the worst at it. In fact I do pretty good for a first timer but Kat is another story. She did get a bullseye but not on the intended target. It's hard to keep the laughter in after that. It's only on the third day as we wait for our private sessions that it hits me that I might have to kill her.

Ever since training finished yesterday I've been thrown into a state of anxiety. I can't help for the life of me think up what to show the Gamemakers. Sure I can show my talent with a knife but is that going to blow them away? Unlikely. And what if I mess up. If I don't get a good enough training score I might not be able to get sponsors. No this is my only chance to show that people should be betting on me, not because I look good but because I am strong enough to win these Games. And so I was up all night trying to think up a mindboggling session but so far I've drawn blank. Finnick's only advice was to show them I'm worth it. Whatever that means. Am I showing the Gamemakers that I'm worth it? Worth what? To be sponsored? To be bet on? Fat load that will do since they can't do either.

Now as I sit in my chair waiting for my turn I am half distracted from trying to think up what to do by the fact that I might have to kill Kat. It's a horrible thought and I can't seem to shake it. Over the pass few days I've been thinking a lot about how I might have to kill other kids but somehow I never though about Kat while doing so. Truth be told I accepted it long ago, waiting in that Justice Building that I will have to kill to survive. But the thought of killing Kat is unbearable.

"So 4 we've been thinking that you ought to join the Career Pack." Aemila, the District 2 girl says. To say I'm shocked is an understatement. Finnick warned me about this but I never thought it would _actually _happen. The three other career tributes look at me like I'm their prey. So far we've all been dead silent, nervous about the session but here they were in front of everyone practically demanding I join their alliance. No one has gone in yet but Jasper, the boy from 1 is due any minute. I hope they call his name already so that's one less intimidating figure. I see his district partner Jade looking quite annoyed obviously not wanting me in the pack. Fine by me.

"I'm sorry, _what_." I sputter out. I try to keep my voice neutral as possible so I don't give away whether I want to join them or not.

"We've seen a little of what you can do. Plus you're from 4. One of the better Districts." Wade from 2 says snidely while looking over at 11 and 12.

The last thing I want to do is join them. I rather make an alliance with Kat. We haven't actually agreed on an alliance but if I'm going have one it might as well be with her. Finnick told me that saying yes meant a probable knife in the back but saying no will get me targeted.

"I'll have to think about." I say after a while. That's a good response as any. It just means there's a less chance of either of the two scenarios playing out. Just then we hear someone announce finally for Jasper to go in. I'll have to wait for another six tributes before I can go.

"Suit yourself." Jasper says as he confidently walks out of the room. There is dead silence once more. Everyone's eyes seem to be on me. I'm again distracted from figuring out what to show the Gamemakers. It's getting annoying.

"Why didn't you tell them no." Kat whispers from behind me. Great that's just what I need. Another distraction.

"I'm pretty sure that wouldn't end well for me." I whisper back. This seems to satisfy her for now. In that moment I'm tempted to make a proper alliance with her. That is until I again remember that I might have to kill her.

It's Devon's turn now. My heart feels like it's going to come out of my chest any minute. I'm nervous for him as well as myself. I still want him to do well. If neither Kat nor I win I hope he does. Better for the District.

"Teresa Grey." I'm too nervous to even groan at my full name. Slowly but surely I walk to the room for my private sessions. A couple Gamemakers seemed to be already drunk but most are focused and waiting for me to dazzle them. Twelve are screwed if they continue like this. I look over to the knives. Might as well start off strong.

I throw the first knife. It's good but not perfect. I throw a couple more, each time I improve bit by bit. Until finally-

"Bullseye." I mutter under my breath. I throw more knives, hitting the bullseye again and again. Proud as I am for this achievement by the look on the Gamemakers faces I know it's been done before. And so I move to the snares section. Snares have caught and killed humans plenty of times before in Games. But it's never really on purpose. I spend a good ten minutes perfecting the snare. I've intrigued the Gamemakers. They can't see what I'm doing but with all this time spent on it, it must be good. Finally I move away and they see it. A snare that is specially engineered to capture and killed people. Not one but many. And I've shown than that I'm worth it now. That I am beyond deadly.

"You may leave Ms Grey." They're impressed but also confused to where I learnt this. It was my aunt and father's creation. My aunt on my mother's side was the one who introduced my father to my mother. The three of them had spent their youth planning uprisings in the District. They created all sorts of plans to kill peacekeepers. I had come across this one when I was looking under the floorboard in my room. My mother had given up this idea of rebellion when she had me and urged my aunt and father to do the same. There was a minor act of rebellion a little while after I was born, organised by my aunt. My father would have been there too but I had caught the flu so he stayed home to take care of me. The following morning those who had participated in the rebellion had vanished without a trace. No one was to speak about it outside closed doors. I shudder to think what would happen if my father was there. My brother and sister would most certainly never been born and I would have lost him a whole nine years earlier. I'm glad I caught that flu.

As soon I reach the District 4 floor I am being badgered with questions. I am tempted to ignore them and go straight to bed but I doubt that would stop Eunia from asking how it went. I answer as honestly as possible. Except for the part about the people snare. I tell them I showed off fishing and knife skills. This seems to be enough for everyone but Finnick who knows something's up. After that I do go straight to bed, haunted by nightmares where my father went to that damned uprising.

Eunia's screechy voice awakens me for dinner. We talk a little more about Training but to be honest the kebabs were more interesting than training. The others look at me questioningly when I turn down fish. After seventeen years of eating just that I think it's about time to try some new food out. Secretly I've never really liked seafood. It always tastes...wait for it, too fishy .Yep I admit it I dislike seafood because it tastes too fishy. I am a difficult person.

"The training scores are about to begin. Everybody get comfortable." Eunia says. We move over to the coach. I sit in between Finnick and Mags who mutter words of encouragement to Devon and I. Well Finnick does while Mags makes some incorrigible noises that I think is an encouragement. Either way I'm grateful.

"Alright everyone the wait is over. Let's see the Training Scores." We all look over to the television. Finally we'll know either how much we've screwed up or how much we impressed the Gamemakers. Caesar Flickerman, the host for the Games will be of course announcing the scores. This year he seems to be sporting fluoro yellow hair and eyebrows. He looks like a highlighter threw up on him.

"Okay lets of course start with District 1. Jasper Cordo 9. Jade Valora, 10." The District 1 tributes score highly surprising no one. Wade from 2 scores 10 and Aemila scores 9. Both tributes from 3 score 6. It's Devon turn next. He looks like he is about to faint.

"Devon Keen, 7" I hear Devon breathe out a sigh of relief. Not exceptionally good but not terribly bad either. From Devon told us it seems he stuck to spears, ropes and knots. But he did he's job well enough.

It's my turn now. The familiar feeling of anxiety is overwhelming now. It occurs that perhaps the Gamemakers did not like my death trap and they might score me low on purpose.

"Teresa Grey." I'm sweating bucketful's now and praying to a god I don't believe in that I do well. "11." I don't believe my ears. An 11 is not unheard of, especially from Career Districts but it is certainly not common. Everyone is hugging and congratulating me but I barely register them in my state of shock.

"You have done well. I am proud of you." It's this unknown voice that brings me out of shock. It's Mags. This is the first time she had spoken clearly without anyone having to decipher what the hell she's saying. My heart swells with pride.

"Thank you." I choke out before engulfing her in a giant hug. I hope this score gives my friends my friends and family a renewed sense of hope. It does for me. We are each given a glass of wine to drink while we watch the rest of the scores. My head is woozy from the wine but I remember a couple of the tributes. Titus was given a 10 (no surprise there) and Katri a 9. Devon looks over to me when her score is announced. He is the only one who knows about our newfound friendship. I haven't gathered the courage to tell anyone else. Finnick's going to be mad when he finds out. The boy from 8 who I know is called Raff was able to score himself a 7. Eve and Sam were both able to get an 8. The rest went over my head; the only thing that was really important was my 11.

"Alright it's best we all go to bed. Big day tomorrow with the interviews." Eunia says. The interviews. There goes my happy mood. I'd almost forget about them. Thanks Eunia.

"Before you go to bed I'd like to have a word with you Tess." Finnick says. I look at him questioningly as does everyone else. What was with his formality? I decide to trust him so I follow him out of the main room as everyone else went to bed.

"I'd like to show you the roof. It's a nice place but the wind's often very loud." I translated this too "I've got to tell you something important but I can't risk anyone else overhearing."

"Alright then." I say reluctantly. It's a long walk up the staircase. Finnick tells me that usually only the District 12 tributes go up there but everyone else is free too. As we reach the roof I find it is quite a nice place. There is nice little garden and everything. But I find it strange that there is nothing to stop tributes from jumping.

"There's a force field to stop anyone from jumping off." He answers my question before I can ask it. "Here let me show you." He flicks at it so I can see the sharp zap. This wouldn't all seem that weird but he's acting strangely. He's talking about two times faster than usual and well, pacing like a madman.

"You know Finnick if this your idea of seducing me it's not working. Remember I like girls-"

"If you win the Games you'll be forced into prostitution." He bursts out.

"Wait what. What the fuck. Finnick. What the actual fuck." This is the last thing I expected. Forced prostitution? Where did he get that idea?

"It's true. President Snow he sells Victors. He makes them have sex with people who bid the highest amount of money. Since I'm 16 now I'm finally old enough to join the industry. If you refuse they'll kill someone that you love. If you win you'll have to do the same thing. I'm sorry okay. I should've already told you." I take a moment for this to settle in. Prostitution or your loved ones being murdered. It makes sense when you think about it. President Snow wouldn't be above forcing people into prostitution or killing. And those stories of Finnick having lovers back in the Capitol. I feel like crying. Losing means death and winning having to have sleep with people from the Capitol. I'm contemplating death.

"When did you start? I break the silence between us after what feels like hours.

"When we first arrived in the Capitol. There are others too. You remember Cashmere and Gloss, the mentors from 1. They're among the most desired." I remember Finnick looking so afraid when the train arrived in the Capitol. Now I know why. I hadn't thought about Cashmere since the tribute parade. She too had been subjected to this fate and I can't help but feel sorry for her.

"Is there any way to stop it?' I ask hopeful.

"Not unless you want him to kill anyone you've ever loved." I think about my mother and Alodia. Laurel, Pliny and Blye. Even school friends and colleagues. All dead if I refuse to be a prostitute.

"Then this conversation is over." And with that I am walking back to my room, tears streaming down my face hoping for this nightmare to end.


End file.
